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Hyper Cola
I prefer not to speak about the days I worked for Coca-Cola. However, I feel it is my duty to reveal the sick secrets of this wicked corporation. They were willing to torment people, use them as puppets, torture them, and even take their lives, just to assure their business stayed on top. Not too many years ago, I would say around 2009, I was gaining acclaim for the diligence and impressive skill I displayed. The manager of our Coca-Cola sector promoted me to oversee the newest project they were testing. It was called Hyper-Cola. Energy drinks were rising in popularity, and Coca-Cola had no product to compete in this field. Hyper-Cola was planned to alter just that. I had little knowledge on the ingredients within Hyper-Cola, since I was mainly dealing with marketing for the product. I knew the goal, however, was to create an energy drink that was highly addictive. After briefing with the team developing the beverage, we arrived at the conclusion that the only further thing needed was fan-based opinion. We wanted to gather a wide variety of people to taste the drink. Several people from juvenile to elder, lean to plump, and even lanky to little arrived. We called them the beta testers of our product. As they sipped the soda, all were rather pleased. Following the taste test, we placed all (by my estimation, 15) of them into a room. This room was entirely recreational. It possessed two basketball hoops, had slides streaming and twirling on the walls, and even offered several Frisbees to toss. The area was quite vast, and offered plenty of room for exercise. We all peered through the window in interest to see how active Hyper-Cola caused them to be. We saw the elder people speed-walk and stand taller, seeming more active, the juvenile younger people performed highly energetic activities, and strangely, one of the shorter beta testers stood in a corner, staring at a wall. It looked rather peculiar, but it appeared the drink had made every other person display much more enthusiasm. There was an older couple jogging, two younger brother and sisters tossing the Frisbee, and even two middle-aged friends competing against each other in a game of one-on-one, but now there stood two people fixated on the corner, backs to us. The second person that accompanied the original was much older, looking to be in their sixties at least. Both of the figures were rather short, and they stood looking lifeless and hunched over. We wondered if they had been exhausted by the drink, or if they decided to take a break. We weren't sure, but it gave me an unsettling feeling, and I could tell something was off. We decided to send an employee in to check on the two that stood in the corner. As he trekked through the open room, people looked to be getting more and more exhausted. In fact, on his voyage to the two standing in the corner, I noticed at least three more join them. It looked as if this activity was slowly growing into the majority. Once our employee reached the group of beta testers, we all kept our eyes fixated on the area. He slowly shifted his arm to the air, as he gazed directly to the back of a juvenile girl. He lightly tapped her shoulder, resting only his index finger on her. He spoke, asking "Ma'am, are you okay?" The girl turned. Her appearance was revolting; she stood there staring directly to the employee. Gazing her blood red eyes incontestably at him, she licked her pale white skin with an unaltered grin. Her lips stretched to either side of her face, her eyelids widened, and her pupils soon encompassed the borders of her eyes. Pupils dilated, lips flaking, and skin empty of color, she spoke, "Help." Her message was delivered with an uneasy tone as she trembled. This was all she could manage to say before collapsing to the floor. More of the people piled in and quickly, the entire group lie staring at the corner of this room. All of the employees quickly brought the patients to quarantined rooms. Once in the separated rooms, these patients only seemed to look nearer and nearer to death. Their skin looked lifeless in coloration, and many of them were profusely vomiting this thickly-viscous, neon yellow-looking substance. They even began to say insane things, and acted with rather unpredictable behavior. One of the patients began to violently scratch at the walls, and expressed little signs of stopping. He was intent in what he did, and he looked fearful for his life, as if he was begging for every last breath of his life to be released. His peeling lips opened wide, revealing his deteriorating teeth as he shrieked, "Help, help!" He continued digging into the walls to the point where his nails snapped, and his flesh began to tear. We had workers run in and strap the patient up. However, by the time this happened, his fingers already exposed the bone on his hands. His skin peeled back from his finger tips and his hands were drenched in blood. He was determined to do whatever it was he was trying. Looking at many of the patients, they seemed to slowly be going insane; they all rummaged through their rooms, doused in sweat. After a day or two, our medical staff conducted tests on these patients. After a routine analysis they confirmed an unknown substance from the drink was causing the patients' brains to rot and decay at a considerable rate. However, the only thing keeping them alive was the major amount of hyperactive chemicals within the beverage. Doctors confirmed that they would be able to solve the issue. However, the drink's effects would forever stay latent in their system. Quickly, the scientists at our company conducted several tests on the beverage, attempting to discover what it was that caused the horrible reaction. Unfortunately, there was no explanation; no evidence anywhere. The company swiftly released the patients who faced the effects of the drink. However, none of them had any memory of the incident. The entire business stood in shock the next week, and all of us were told to never tell a word of it to anybody. However, unlike the rest of the company, I recently followed the lives of those patients. I researched them and discovered something disheartening. All of them were reported dead after leaving the building; not a single one was living. That was bad enough, but the disturbing news was they all died on the exact same day. The day matched the expiration date on the original Hyper-Cola bottles. This fact was unnerving to me. The drink was obviously quickly thrown under the rug for its high danger. The company of course needed to protect itself, and because of its fame and size had little trouble in doing so. Coca-Cola quickly deleted all traces of Hyper-Cola anywhere. Speculation of its arrival was disregarded, and articles of it on the internet have been forced to be taken down. Also, as I've stated before, everyone within the industry has refused to speak about it; everyone that is, but me. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if this article was taken down. After all, Coca-Cola has done a magnificent job of masking this outburst from the public. Category:Mental Illness Category:Items/Objects Category:Reality